


Are We Doing This?

by DelilahMcMuffin



Series: How Slow is Slow? [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Acceptable pizza toppings, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post DGIR4, Second Date, cake makes everything better, fluff and tenderness, like don’t even worry about it, like super mild, panic spiral, so does kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMcMuffin/pseuds/DelilahMcMuffin
Summary: They'd managed to make it through the drive to Elmdale and the ordering and consuming of their pizza while keeping their conversation flowing as it always had between them; light, fun, maybe a little flirty. But this was the first time either of them had brought up kissing since... well, since they'd kissed in the store that afternoon. And it made Patrick ache to do it again. And again. And again.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: How Slow is Slow? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858507
Comments: 44
Kudos: 286





	Are We Doing This?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Slow Hand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20726384) by [DelilahMcMuffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMcMuffin/pseuds/DelilahMcMuffin). 



> The first part of this has been languishing on my hard drive for a while. It was originally going to be a chapter of my story “Slow Hand”, but didn’t make the cut. But I found it and I liked it, and I finished it and think it stands up well on its own.
> 
> This is un-betaed, so all mistakes are all mine.

The pizza place David had chosen for their date was not anything like Patrick had expected. A small, unobtrusive little hole in the wall was not the kind of place he'd ever pictured David Rose. But there he was, sitting across the table from Patrick, happily stuffing his face with what was quite possibly the most delicious pizza Patrick had ever tasted.

"Mrmph?" David queried with a mouthful of crust and cheese and meat. Patrick grinned and shook his head causing David to cover his mouth with his hand, chewing purposefully before swallowing. He wiped his mouth with his napkin. "What?"

"Nothing," Patrick said, taking another slice from the pizza set on the table between them. "It's just... this is nice. This place. I like it."

"It's a dive," David said matter-of-factly before he took another enormous bite. He chewed thoughtfully and looked at their surroundings. He waited until he'd finished chewing this time before he spoke. "Kind of reminds me of this little place by my studio in New York," he mused. "It was nothing special to look at, but they were open until 4 am and their pizza was so fucking good." He closed his eyes, clearly savouring a memory or two. "Just the right amount of grease."

"And how does this rank, comparatively speaking?" Patrick asked as he took a more normal-sized bite of his own pizza. 

"Meh," David shrugged. "It's okay." He sipped at his water and considered the pizza left on his plate. "Needs more grease. And their cheese-to-crust ratio is off. There's too much crust."

"Spoken by a true connoisseur," Patrick teased, earning himself a narrow-eyed glare from David. "What? You clearly take your pizza very seriously. I've never met anyone with such strong opinions on pepperoni distribution and topping correctness before."

"I don't know what to tell you, Patrick," David said loftily. "Pineapple is a tropical fruit. Putting it on a pizza is just incorrect."

"I like pineapple on my pizza," Patrick said, not really caring either way, but loving watching David get all het up about it again. "It's good."

"You're a philistine," David declared. "Don't ever try to kiss me when you have pineapple pizza breath. It will not end well for you."

A little frisson of heat bubbled up inside Patrick. They'd managed to make it through the drive to Elmdale and the ordering and consuming of their pizza while keeping their conversation flowing as it always had between them; light, fun, maybe a little flirty. But this was the first time either of them had brought up kissing since... well, since they'd kissed in the store that afternoon. And it made Patrick ache to do it again. And again. And again.

"What if I kissed you with regular, non-pineapple pizza breath?" he asked and his stomach fluttered at the raised eyebrow he received in response.

"That would be...I would like that," David said, almost shyly. He glanced over his shoulder and waved at the server. "Can we please get our bill?" 

The server nodded and came over and deposited a small black folder on the tabletop. David reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone and his bank card. "I'll be right back," he said, leaving his phone sitting beside his empty plate, picking up the black folder containing their bill and getting up to follow the server back to the counter so he could pay. While he waited, Patrick heard David's phone vibrating against the formica table top with incoming messages. Not wanting to pry, Patrick made a conscious effort not to look to see who was trying to reach David, but he could see that there were a lot of messages. Like, a _lot._ And they were still coming.

"You ready?" David said, smiling as he returned to the table. He grabbed his phone and put it back in his pocket without glancing at the screen.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Patrick began, getting to his feet. "But um... I didn't look or anything, but your phone... It seems like someone is trying to get your attention..." 

David shrugged and put his hand between Patrick's shoulder blades, guiding him to the door. "It's probably just my sister. Or my mom. It can wait."

"I don't mind," Patrick said as they walked down the street to where he'd parked his car. Elmdale wasn't a big city, but it was a Saturday night and people were out having dinner or going for drinks and all the spaces near the pizza place had been taken so he'd had to park a few blocks away on a quiet side street. 

"Well I do," David said firmly. His hand slid down from between Patrick's shoulders to his lower back. Patrick could feel the warmth of his palm through his shirt. "We're on a date. I promised no distractions, and I meant it. I'm all yours."

That made Patrick smile. He stopped walking and turned to David, who raised a questioning brow. Patrick took a step and closed the distance between them, one hand landing on David’s hip, the other gently cradling the side of his neck. He leaned in and kissed David softly, tentatively. When he pulled back, David still had his eyes closed, the most beautiful, serene smile on his face. He was so beautiful, and it was just too much. It was too soon for the force of feelings welling up inside Patrick at the knowledge that he’d put that look on David’s face. So he did what he always did to reset the equilibrium between them. He teased David. "Well, actually you just promised no Stevie," he said, earning a gentle pinch to his love handle. "Hey!"

David grinned at him and moved his hand back to rest on Patrick's back, just above his belt. Patrick liked it. It was slightly possessive, but not in a douchy kind of way. More in an _I-can-finally-touch-you-like-this-so-I’m-going-to_ kind of of way. It was ridiculsouly hot, and Patrick had to push down the rush of longing he felt for David to move his hand just a little lower, to brush his fingers below his belt, maybe tuck them into the back pocket of his jeans. "Stevie is a distraction. My mom and Alexis are distractions."

"It could be important."

"Trust me, it's not."

"David."

David sighed. "Fine," he huffed, taking out his phone. His eyebrows shot up at the sheer volume of messages. "Shit."

"Everything okay?" Patrick offered David a smile, holding onto it tightly when David removed his hand from its resting place on Patrick’s back. He missed the weight and warmth of it instantly. 

David nodded absently, scrolling with his thumb through the barrage of messages. "Dammit," he exclaimed, eyes rapidly scanning the tiny screen in his hand. "It's Stevie," he said, glancing at Patrick with a note of apology in his eyes. "She um... I guess she thought... with the dead guy and all... and my dad needed our room..."

His phone lit up with an incoming call and David touched his screen and answered the call.

"What the fuck, David?"

"Well hello to you too, Stevie," David replied. 

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Where am I?" David asked, confused. "Where are you?"

"Outside your store. I came to pick you up."

"What? Why?!?"

Stevie let out an exasperated and long-suffering sigh. "Because there was a dead guy at the motel today and your room is currently being occupied by a lovely middle aged couple from Winnipeg."

"So?"

"Oh my God, David!" Stevie exclaimed, her frustration clear in her voice. "Didn't you read any of my messages?!? I texted you half an hour ago telling you I'd be by to pick you up for tonight."

"Oh."

David grimaced apologetically at Patrick who shrugged his shoulders in response. "What's wrong?" Patrick mouthed silently.

David shook his head and pointed at his phone. "Just gimme a sec," he mouthed back. He turned and took a few steps away. "I was just having dinner. I put my phone on silent."

"I was just at the cafe, David. I saw your parents and Alexis, but you weren't there."

"We aren't at the cafe."

He could practically hear her eyebrows arch with curiosity. "We?"

"Me and... and Patrick."

"Oh _really?"_ she asked, and he could hear the teasing lilt in her voice. The same tone she'd used last night when she'd goaded him into opening the present Patrick had brought to his birthday dinner. "So things went well after I left last night, did they?"

A pleased little smile tugged at David's mouth and he ducked his head, glancing quickly over his shoulder at Patrick who was leaning casually against a nearby street lamp, his attention focused on his own phone. He looked like James Dean would have looked if he’d been a business major into ill-fitting denim and cheap, synthetic blend shirts. It was a good look for him. "Maybe."

"Oh my God, David!" Stevie squealed so loudly that David had to pull the phone from his ear. Out of the corner of his eye, David noticed Patrick look up from his phone at Stevie’s outburst. "What happened? Did he kiss you? Was it amazing? Oh my God, did you fuck?!?"

“What? No! What?” David could hear Stevie snickering on the other end of the line. “That’s not...we’re not…” David trailed off, suddenly unsure. What exactly were he and Patrick doing? Were they dating? Were they friends who kiss? Were they working their way toward friends who fuck? Or was this something more? David certainly hoped it was, and from what Patrick had said back at the store, he sounded like he felt the same way. But David had been fooled before by pretty words. “We...I…” He felt a tightening in his chest. Oh, God. What would happen to them once Patrick realized that David was far more trouble than he was worth? Would they have to sell the store? Would Patrick demand that David buy him out? David didn’t have enough money to so that. Would he just have to work alongside Patrick until the store eventually went under? Or maybe Patrick would buy him out. He was good with money. He had gotten the money, the grants, for the store. He would be able to get more. 

“David, breathe,” Stevie was speaking, her voice sounding far away. He realized that in the midst of his spiral he’d let the hand holding his phone drop slightly away from his ear. And he had also stopped breathing.

“David?” Patrick was at his side suddenly. David felt a warm, calming hand at the small of his back. With his other hand, Patrick gestured to David’s phone. “Can I?” 

David nodded, relinquishing his phone to Patrick. He watched as Patrick put the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Stevie,” Patrick said. The hand on David’s back began rubbing gentle, soothing circles, slowly moving up and down his spine. David tried to time his breaths to the movement of Patrick’s hand, and the tightness in his chest began to lessen. Breathing became easier, less of a chore. “Yeah, I think he’s okay.” Patrick glanced up at David, a warm smile on his face. “We’re just gonna grab some dessert, and then I’ll bring him back to town...yeah. Yeah, I know about the motel situation...uh huh...well, I’ll see what he wants to do. If you don’t want to wait up, he’s more than welcome to stay with me…”

David’s heart skipped a beat. Just this morning, Patrick had said that a sleepover wouldn’t be a good idea. And now David had put him in a position where he felt obligated to do something that had clearly made him so uncomfortable only a few short hours ago.

“Okay. Bye Stevie,” Patrick said, ending the call and handing David’s phone back to him. David took it and shoved it in his pocket, feeling sheepish and foolish and a bunch of other unpleasant _ishes_ that he didn’t want to think about right now. Patrick was looking at him with concern, but not annoyance. Which...well. That was something that would take some getting used to. “You alright?” Patrick asked kindly, his hand still moving against David’s back.

David nodded. “Yes. I...I’m sorry. I didn’t...You don’t have to...I can…”

Patrick leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to David’s lips. “Let’s go get some dessert, okay?” David nodded. “There’s a place just up the street that I hear makes a mean chocolate truffle cake. I’ve been dying to try it. Does that sound good?” David nodded again. Patrick made no move to rush him, push him, or hurry him along. He seemed perfectly content to talk about a delectable sounding cake, while standing on the sidewalk, rubbing David’s back.

It was ridiculous. Patrick was just being so nice. David wasn’t used to this. People from his past would have rolled their eyes, told David to stop being so dramatic, so pathetic, and probably driven off and left him to find his own way home. But Patrick was still here, still looking at David like there was no place he’d rather be, nothing else he’d rather be doing. David allowed himself, for the first time in his life, to believe that maybe—just maybe—that it might be true.

* * *

“Better?” Patrick asked as he watched David’s lips close over the last spoonful of what had truly been a decadent chocolate cake. David closed his eyes and sighed, nodding dreamily, the spoon still in his mouth. Was it weird to be jealous of a spoon? 

“Mhmm,” David hummed, slowly drawing the spoon from between his lips and placing it reverently on the edge of the now empty plate. “Much. Thank you.”

Patrick smiled. “Good.” Now that dessert was over, David looked like he was wavering between saying something and retreating back into himself as he had done out on the sidewalk. Patrick reached across the table and took his hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back of David’s hand. “Do you want to talk about it? Whatever it is?”

David pursed his lips, his brows creasing. He kept his eyes focused on their joined hands. “I, um...okay?” He drew in a deep breath and offered Patrick a nervous smile. “I just...um. I guess it just occurred to me that I don’t know what we’re doing.” Patrick frowned and David hurried on to explain. “Like, we like each other, right?” Patrick nodded, which seemed to give David some confidence. “I guess I just...I don’t know what comes next. Like, what are you expecting from this? From me?”

Patrick scootched his chair around the corner of the table, inching himself closer to David. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I want to be with you, David.”

A rosy blush rose on David’s cheeks. “I want that too,” he said, still sounding uncertain. “Um, I guess I just need to know what that means for you. Like, are we going to be friends with, um, with benefits? Or do you want something more? Because I’ve made assumptions in the past about expectations in relationships and I just need to know that we’re on the same page.” 

David’s beautiful, dark eyes were clouded with worry, as if he was just waiting for Patrick to let him down gently. Or maybe not so gently, as it sounded like plenty of his previous partners had done. Patrick squeezed David’s fingers reassuringly. “I want to date you, David. I want to kiss you, and only you. And eventually, I would really like to sleep with you. If that’s alright with you.”

David’s mouth quirked into a bashful little smile. “I’d like that,” he said. Then anxiety flamed behind his eyes again. “Um, but what happens...I mean, eventually you’ll get tired of me, or annoyed with me and you’ll want to leave. W-what happens then? What about the store?”

Patrick’s heart sank. Someone - more likely several someones - had not always been kind to David. Patrick longed to ask who had done this, who had hurt him. But maybe that was a conversation for another day. No need to bring up unpleasant memories right now.

Instead, he said: “We’ve spent almost all day, every day, for the past two months together, David. And I’m not sick of you yet.” He brought their joined hands to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of David’s hand. “And as for the store, if the time comes that we _mutually_ decide that being together is no longer what we want...David, I respect you too much to just ditch you with the store on your own. Or to try to take it away from you. We’re partners, no matter what.”

David’s eyes went wide. “You respect me?”

Patrick frowned. He’d said as much back at the store, hadn’t he? “Have I not made that clear?”

David shrugged. “I mean, you said...but no one...no one ever has before. That I know of.”

“David.” The name dropped from Patrick’s lips like a sigh on the wind, there and gone in the span of a moment. Patrick kissed David’s hand again. “Then I am both proud and surprised to be the first.”

David was looking at him as though he’d hung the moon and stars. It was so easy to like David, so easy to be with him, to laugh with him. Patrick couldn’t believe that no one in David’s past had ever seen what he saw, had never wanted to be on the receiving end of all that David had to offer, to be the one to put that look on David’s face. 

Their server chose that moment to drop off the bill, indicating that while there was no rush, they were closing soon. So Patrick got up and paid, then returned to David, offering his hand. He laced his fingers with David’s, and they walked back out into the sidewalk, back down the street toward Patrick’s car. When they got there, Patrick freed his hand to reach into his pocket for his keys. David slid his hands around Patrick’s waist from behind, pulling him back against his chest, nuzzling his face gently againsy Patrick’s neck.

“Thank you, Patrick,” he murmured softly into Patrick’s skin. Patrick closed his eyes and smiled, letting himself get lost in the feeling of David’s arms around him, the scratch of his stubble. He could stay like this forever. It was so new, so good. So, so good.

“Stay with me tonight?” Patrick whispered. He felt David tense behind him, his breath coming in warm little gasps against his skin.

“But you said slow,” David reasoned, loosening his grasp on Patrick. “Y-you said you weren’t ready, and I—“

“Just to sleep, David,” Patrick said, turning to face him, taking his face between his palms, locking eyes with him. “I’m not ready for more than that yet. But I’m also not ready to let you go tonight.” David’s eyes crinkled and he made a pleased little shimmy, his lips fighting against the smile Patrick knew was just dying to be set free. “That and Stevie was diving headfirst into a bottle of wine when I talked to her, so I imagine she’s already well on her way to a hangover tomorrow.”

David rolled his eyes, then leaned in to kiss Patrick, quick and chaste. “Mkay. I guess I could stay with you. If I have no other choice.”

Patrick snorted. “I mean, I hear the couch in the motel’s office isn’t too terrible. I could drop you off and you could sleep there,” he teased, earning a glare from David. “Or maybe the Schitt’s have a spare roo—“

“Nope! No, nope, no way,” David interrupted, placing a quieting finger over Patrick’s lips. “Do not even joke about that.”

Patrick nipped at David’s finger, earning a half-hearted squawk of protest. “So you’ll stay with me?”

David nodded. “Yes, Patrick. I will stay with you.”

Patrick drew David tighter, pushed him back against the passenger side door of his car, kissing him long and slow, both of them still tentative, exploring, gentle. Then, when their lips were swollen and slick and red, Patrick opened the door for David, waiting until he was buckled in before rounding the car and sliding into the driver's seat. He put the key in the ignition and gave it a turn. He checked his mirrors and pulled out into the street. 

“Um, just in case you were wondering, Ray will probably be in bed. So you shouldn’t have to worry about him,” he explained as they neared the outskirts of Schitt’s Creek.

David shot him a confused look. “Why would I worry about what Ray is doing?”

“Uh…” Patrick glanced over at David, offering a guilty smile. “Did I not mention that I live at Ray’s?”

David’s eyes widened. “No you did _not!”_ He flapped his hands and looked around, as if searching for a hidden camera or Ashton Kutcher hiding in the glove compartment. “I would remember something like that! _Ohmygod!_ Just...ohmygod. Take me to the motel. I’ll sleep under the picnic table.”

“But there are bugs there, David. Big ones.”

David groaned and swatted at Patrick. But he didn’t protest further when Patrick pulled up in front of Ray’s.

“Are we doing this?” Patrick asked, leaving the car running in case David really did want to stay elsewhere.

David sighed and reached into the backseat for his leather overnight bag. “As long as you promise to be a gentleman,” he said primly, a teasing glint in his eye.

Patrick chuckled. “I don’t make promises I know I can’t keep, David. But I’ll do my best.”

David looked inordinately pleased with that response. “Then let’s do this.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Despite the fact that things are “opening up”, it’s still a crazy, crazy world out there. Be safe, be smart. Wear a mask. If not for yourself, for your neighbour, your grandparent, someone else’s grandparent. Just be kind. And remember that Black Lives Matter.
> 
> Please leave a comment or a kudos (or both!) and come say hi on Tumblr @delilah-mcmuffin
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> D McM


End file.
